Thank you for visiting SNEWPapers!
Sign up free
Poem
June 17, 1848
New England Religious Herald
Hartford, Hartford County, Connecticut
What is this article about?
A mother's tender poem on the birth of her child in India, likening the infant to a bird in her nest, expressing awe, prayer for its eternal soul, and religious devotion. Written by Fanny Forester (Mrs. Judson) in Maulmain, January 1848.
Clipping
OCR Quality
95%
Excellent
Full Text
My Bird.
BY FANNY FORESTER.
The June number of the Columbian Magazine gives us this exquisite little poem by Mrs. Judson, the occasion of which will readily suggest itself to the reader.
Ere last year's moon had left the sky,
A birdling sought my Indian nest,
And folded, oh, so lovingly!
Her tiny wings upon my breast.
From morn till evening's purple tinge,
In winsome helplessness she lies;
Two rose leaves, with a silken fringe,
Shut softly on her starry eyes.
There's not in Ind a lovelier bird;
Broad earth owns not a happier nest;
Oh God, thou hast a fountain stirred,
Whose waters never more shall rest!
This beautiful mysterious thing,
This seeming visitant from heaven.
This bird with the immortal wing,
To me—to me, thy hand has given.
The pulse first caught its tiny stroke,
The blood its crimson hue, from mine:-
This life, which I have dared invoke,
Henceforth is parallel with thine.
A silent awe is in my room;
I tremble with delicious fear;
The future with its light and gloom,
Time and Eternity are here.
Doubts—hopes, in eager tumult rise;
Hear, oh my God! one earnest prayer:
Room for my bird in Paradise,
And give her angel-plumage there!
Maulmain, Jan. 1848
BY FANNY FORESTER.
The June number of the Columbian Magazine gives us this exquisite little poem by Mrs. Judson, the occasion of which will readily suggest itself to the reader.
Ere last year's moon had left the sky,
A birdling sought my Indian nest,
And folded, oh, so lovingly!
Her tiny wings upon my breast.
From morn till evening's purple tinge,
In winsome helplessness she lies;
Two rose leaves, with a silken fringe,
Shut softly on her starry eyes.
There's not in Ind a lovelier bird;
Broad earth owns not a happier nest;
Oh God, thou hast a fountain stirred,
Whose waters never more shall rest!
This beautiful mysterious thing,
This seeming visitant from heaven.
This bird with the immortal wing,
To me—to me, thy hand has given.
The pulse first caught its tiny stroke,
The blood its crimson hue, from mine:-
This life, which I have dared invoke,
Henceforth is parallel with thine.
A silent awe is in my room;
I tremble with delicious fear;
The future with its light and gloom,
Time and Eternity are here.
Doubts—hopes, in eager tumult rise;
Hear, oh my God! one earnest prayer:
Room for my bird in Paradise,
And give her angel-plumage there!
Maulmain, Jan. 1848
What sub-type of article is it?
Ode
Hymn
What themes does it cover?
Religious Faith
What keywords are associated?
Motherhood
Birth
Prayer
Child
God
Paradise
India
Nest
Bird Metaphor
What entities or persons were involved?
By Fanny Forester (Mrs. Judson)
Poem Details
Title
My Bird.
Author
By Fanny Forester (Mrs. Judson)
Subject
On The Birth Of Her Child
Form / Style
Lyric Quatrains With Abab Rhyme
Key Lines
Ere Last Year's Moon Had Left The Sky,
A Birdling Sought My Indian Nest,
And Folded, Oh, So Lovingly!
Her Tiny Wings Upon My Breast.
Oh God, Thou Hast A Fountain Stirred,
Whose Waters Never More Shall Rest!
Hear, Oh My God! One Earnest Prayer:
Room For My Bird In Paradise,
And Give Her Angel Plumage There!